All In Good Time
by Shan at Warblerland
Summary: Based on CP Coulter's Dalton - Pairing: Logan/Julian. Prompt from tumblr: Julian leaves Dalton Academy without another word said. Five silent years later, he and Logan finally meet again.


**Title: **All In Good Time  
**Pairing**: Logan/Julian  
**Notes**: I saw someone in Tumblr who prompted this:_ Julian/Logan futurefic. Julian ran away from Dalton. Logan runs into him about 5 years later. _

_Julian Larson, Logan Wright and Michelle Linney-Wright belong to CP Coulter's "Dalton"._

* * *

"Julian! Julian!"

The actor looked up and smiled the way he always did when the cameras present. His second publicist was gesturing wildly to him to come over so excited that she looked like she would lift right off the floor. He wondered if she was really as good as people said. She acted like some crazed fangirl right now. "Julian! Come here, someone very important wants to speak to you!"

The actor raised an eyebrow, inwardly irritated. She was going to have to be specific; _everyone_ in this entire after-party was madly important compared to everyone else in the normal world. And he was up to his ears in "important" people. Who wouldn't shake hands with an Emmy winner for Best Supporting Actor (at twenty-two no less!) anyway?

Jessica, the publicist, grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the crowd—Julian handed out charming smiles to the people he passed, and he was pretty sure those girls were _swooning_, but that wasn't new—to get to whoever she thought was so important that she had to pull Julian away from waiting his turn at the E! Interview.

"Jessica, I have to be with E! in three minutes," Julian glared. "You really want to keep them waiting?"

"This is important!" she hissed. "Trust me."

He did not. At this moment, he most emphatically did not. He was prepared to fire her if she keeps him away from the interviews of the more important entertainment shows enough to do some reputation damage. His people were going to have conniptions if that happened.

Jessica brought him before a blonde woman in her thirties, looking resplendent in a salmon dress and looking extremely vapid. "Oh, here he is!" she trilled in delight, a hand flying to her diamond-covered throat. A woman of standing, obviously, if she can afford genuine jewels. She moved forward and grabbed his hands. "Julian Larson! I watch your show all the time."

"Oh thank you," Julian answered on autopilot—the standard response. He held her hands, but shot Jessica a glare. Who_was_ this woman and why was it so important he talks to her?

Jessica caught the expression and quickly said, "Julian, this is Michelle Linney-Wright." She gave him a wide-eyed look and whispered, "Senator Wright's wife…? So be nice…?"

Julian stared at her, then back at the woman who was beaming brightly. "I'm so glad we could pull you away for just a second!" she gushed. "Honestly, your show is the only one my son watches—"

Slowly, surely, Julian's hands were growing cold when this all began to sink in. "…your…son…?" he began, wondering if his world really _was_ about to fall apart at the seams.

"I don't look it, right?" she winked, then laughed. "No, but honestly, he's my stepson, Logan. Honestly, your show is really the only one he watches? He doesn't usually watch things like that but sometimes he actually reminds me to watch!"

Julian had lost all his eloquence and speaking capability. The Emmy's Best Supporting Actor was officially speechless. He was standing, in the middle of a crowded Emmy party, with Michelle Wright. The stepmother of—

Michelle suddenly started bouncing up and down on her heels, waving to someone behind Julian. "Logan! Logan, come over here! I _found him!_"

Julian jerked his hands away in horror. Jessica looked startled. "Senator Wright is here?"

"No, silly," Michelle laughed. "My stepson is here. Julian, you remember Logan, don't you? You went to high school together?"

Very slowly, Julian turned to face the young man Michelle was gesturing to. And for the first time in five years, laid eyes on Logan Wright in person. His breath caught.

He was taller now, and dressed as immaculately as he'd ever seen him. And those green eyes never looked greener than they did now, full of light thanks to the resplendent lighting of the hall, and boring intently into him.

"…Logan." Julian choked as soon as his throat unstuck.

"Julian." Logan nodded quietly, keeping his gaze on him. He took a step towards him and Julian almost jumped back. Julian had never felt so anxious in his life—not even when he had to audition for Spielberg.

Logan didn't seem to care. Because he read everything flashing through Julian's eyes and he knew the look of someone cornered. And he wouldn't have looked cornered if he didn't have anything to run from. "Can I…talk to you in private?" he murmured, voice low.

Julian struggled to regain composure. Whatever the hell this was, it wasn't funny, and he'll be damned if he let it get to him for more than a minute. He took a breath and drew himself to his full height, which was still shy of Logan's by some inches. "I don't know," he answered tersely. "Can I? I have several interviews lined up." He looked at Jessica.

Jessica, who was looking at the E! and APLive people waving desperately to get her attention to bring Julian over, now looked to the actor and said, "Oh, gosh, yes. They really need you—"

"I'll wait," Logan cut her off in the same low but authoritatively firm tone he always used, one so painfully familiar to Julian even after it had been five years since he'd heard it used on anyone. Julian glowered at Logan darkly, but Logan was completely unshakable.

Jessica beamed, "All right, great! Mrs. Wright, Logan, I'll run off with Julian now, but we'll _definitely_ meet you—"

"Back at Andaz. Dinner." Logan told her. Jessica looked a little stunned.

"Well—" she glanced at Michelle's expectant look and Logan's dark one, and anxiously murmured, "I…think we can do that, then."

"No, we can't." Julian retorted.

The full intensity of the green eyes was then leveled at Julian…and the actor caved. He knew when he was facing an opponent that he couldn't beat down…or was it only because maybe, unnerving as it was, he wanted to see him again too? He held himself firm. "Fine. We'll see you then. Let's go, Jessica."

He tore away from Logan and dragged his publicist along, and towards the interviews he desperately wished would last all night.

* * *

He arrived at his own hotel relatively intact and only very slightly tipsy from the alcohol at the party. After five years of a full-on Hollywood life, that was, to the best of standards, of questionable morals, he learned how to hold his liquor.

He planned to go to the desk for a moment to ask if his minibar had been restocked and maybe collapse in his room before finding a way to escape Hollywood while he had the chance. But before he could even approach, a powerful grip closed on his elbow and pulled him to the direction of the hotel bar. It took Julian a few moments to realize who had captured him.

"Logan!" he said indignantly, failing to peel away. "What the hell?"

"Shut up and don't make a scene."

If there was one thing either of them could _not_ do in a public place during Emmy night with every paparazzi and reporter in California swooping around, it had to be making a scene. It would be too priceless to get Senator Wright's son and one of Tinsel Town's most famous child-actor-turned-real-award-winning-actor in a squabble at some hotel.

Julian glowered and followed Logan into the bar, pushing up his dark glasses. Logan didn't bother to put on a pair. They both headed straight for a secluded table and proceeded to order whatever poison they wanted in their veins to survive the conversation to take place.

When things finally went quiet, Logan leveled his gaze at Julian again. Julian refused to look at him and instead glared at the wall.

"I thought this was supposed to be dinner?" Julian remarked at last.

"Please. I came here the moment your publicist called Michelle and told her that you have to cancel."

Drinks arrived.

"Five years," Logan said.

"I can count," Julian replied.

"You just disappeared. Into thin air. You vanished."

"I suppose I did," Julian smirked at him, bestowing him with the first direct gaze of the conversation. "I didn't think you'd notice."

"Of course I'd notice, damn it," Logan glared. "You fly out of Stuart in the dead of night, you don't answer calls, you don't answer texts, email—"

Julian glared. "Well I'm _sorry_ that you felt the need to be tightly involved into what's actually _my_ life and career—"

"Yes, I felt the need to because I was _supposed_ to be!" Logan snapped, eyes glinting. "We were still friends, Julian. You me and Derek. When even Derek couldn't get a hold of you—"

"How _is_ Derek, by the way? Still the slick heartbreaker, I hope—"

"—_when even Derek couldn't get a hold of you_, then something had to be wrong." Logan snapped. "You vanished off the face of the planet. We only ever saw you again through television."

"About that…" Julian leaned forward on his drink and smirked at him from over the table. "Are you my fanboy now? Your stepmom kept telling me how anxious you are to watch my show." The smirk was merciless.

The response was surprisingly quiet.

"…it was the only time I saw you." Logan stirred his drink absently.

Julian swallowed, his stomach turning cold. He pulled his elbows off the table and leaned back with feigned—failed—nonchalance. Everything in his body felt cold, but his face felt warm. "…oh."

Logan then picked up the stupid glass stirrer in his drink and flung it to the table. He looked at Julian and said intently, "Why the hell did you just leave like that? Without telling anyone?"

Julian glanced off like a petulant child. "I told people. I told everyone."

"You said you weren't even going to do the movie."

"Did Derek not tell you _anything_?" Julian demanded, and regretted it. It had flown out his lips and now Logan's expression darkened.

"What do you mean?" Logan frowned. "What was Derek supposed to tell me?"

Julian glowered at his drink. To hell with it. It's been five meaningless years. "Derek knew. He knew I was going to take the movie and that I wasn't coming back. …you're the only one who didn't know."

"Well, _fuck that_!" Logan looked furious at everything in the statement. "What the hell, Julian! You just—" his fists clenched but he made an admirable job of restraining himself. He pulled his hands through his hair. "_Shit_."

Julian stared guiltily at the table, heart pounding. "I couldn't tell you. You would've—" _Stopped me? Please. He wouldn't._"You wouldn't have cared anyway."

"I think I just expressed how much I fucking cared."

Julian felt himself flush in spite of himself and it wasn't the alcohol's doing. "Well…whatever."

Silence at the table, the tension thick enough to be tangible. Finally, Logan looked up. "Then why did you do it? Suddenly just bailing out like that? Were you just…tired of Dalton, is that it?"

Julian said nothing. He didn't trust himself to not say anything dumb, or compromising. Even after five years, Logan had every sway over him. He did a tremendous job of five years forgetting him—thinking he forgot him—that he was finally_finally _over him.

It took one look into Logan's eyes at the party to ruin all of five years hard work and make him realize that in the end…he was still that highschooler desperately in love with someone he couldn't have, vulnerable and always afraid of being exposed, and far _far_ more normal than he had ever been in his life.

"How long…did it take you?" Julian asked softly.

Logan glanced at him. "How long did it take me to what?"

"To realize that…I wasn't answering. That I wasn't planning on answering. And that…I wasn't coming back."

The taller male seemed to tense. "…what?"

Julian turned to him expectantly, and Logan lowered his eyes. "Why is that important?"

"Tell me."

Logan drummed his nails on the table, the way he did when he was tense, and tossed his napkin off. "Two…" he let out his breath, pressing his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose. "Two months."

The laugh that came out of Julian sounded terrible. It was soft, filled with bitterness, and cold realization of what he had suspected all along. "Two months…" Julian echoed, nodding a little.

"I thought—I thought you were just angry. Upset about something. Being a…being a priss, that you were just trying to give us the silent treatment or _something_." Logan stared at him. "And then Derek told me that you had never—that you've never answered any of his calls, his texts—"

"I changed numbers." Julian sighed, sitting up. "So in that two months, you—and I mean you, not Derek—didn't…contact me, try to do anything…nothing. Right?"

Logan looked at him strangely. "Me?"

"Logan…" Julian forced himself to be calm. He shook his head. "Logan, I think we're done here."

"No we are not," Logan glared.

"What's the point?" Julian sighed. "You just told me everything I needed to hear. Two months, huh? Wow. Well, that says it. Let's just finish our drinks and pretend this won't matter in the morning."

"It matters, Julian." Logan stared at him. He looked around, searching for what to say. "I may not have done anything in those two months…but when I found out you weren't—that you broke away, I tried to do everything to contact you. I really tried, Julian. But I couldn't. No one could. I thought that if we gave you space, that if we left you alone, you would cool down. Weeks turned to months…years. And…we graduated and…no one called the name Larson up on the stage when we walked."

Julian stared at the table, eyes turning hot and misty. Logan continued. "No one called Larson up there. And…the name didn't go into Stuart House graduates list. Like you didn't exist. Like you were never there. Like…" Logan took a breath, brow furrowing. "Like that boy with the dark glasses never sat next to me during Freshman orientation and just started commenting viciously about how tacky and old fashioned everything had to be."

Julian laughed a little. He smiled faintly at the memory. "Well…I technically didn't. I was never around anyway. You said it yourself."

"But you always came back." Logan raised his eyes to him. "You always came back."

"I did…" Julian said, tears welling up painfully in his eyes. "I always came back… Because…because I couldn't stay away. I felt _normal_ at Dalton. I felt like…like a real person. I had classmates, I had homework, I had friends… I…" Julian lowered his eyes. "I fell in love. Just like everyone else."

"What?" Logan stared. "But Dalton was—"

"An all boys school." Julian breathed, trying to stop the tears from falling. He would _not_, he will _not_ weep like an idiot. "I know."

"Julian…" Logan stared. "You left because…because you were afraid that someone would find out?"

"Not…entirely." Julian took an inhale of his drink in an attempt to curb his brain screaming about how bad an idea this was going to be.

"You didn't have to leave for that—Dalton doesn't care, I mean hell, with all the things _I_—"

"You," Julian whispered. "…that… was you."

Logan stared at him. "…what?"

Julian opened his mouth to speak but no sound was coming out. His breath was choked in his throat—and nothing made sense. In a time when he was one of the most articulate young men in the industry…he was rendered speechless with more stage fright that he had ever had.

"Julian…?" Logan reached for him over the table but Julian pulled back like he was scalded.

"Don't."

"Julian—"

"Stop saying my name!" Julian hissed. Hot tears fell to the table in spite of Julian's considerable efforts.

Logan stared at him, confused, expectant. "Say something."

Licking his dry lips, Julian breathed. It was time to put this all away. He'd been carrying it around for years, even when he thought it was over. He had to let go sometime. And that he knew it had to be now.

"I wasn't afraid anyone would find out." He looked up at Logan. "I was afraid…that you would."

"Julian, I wouldn't have _cared_—"

"Yes, you wouldn't have!" Julian glared furiously, eyes flashing, words barely escaping gritted teeth. "You wouldn't have batted an eye. You…you would just keep moving on, hopping from one guy to the next. And I would just be standing there, helping pull strings to get whoever you wanted to you. Helping you…be…happy. And you wouldn't have fucking cared." Julian leaned his head into his palms. "_Shit_…"

"Look—"

"_Don't_ touch me." Julian glared, jerking away from the hand that tried to get to his elbow. "Do you have—do you have any idea—how hard I tried these five years? Do you have any idea how hard I tried, everything that I did, to forget you? I worked myself to death, I…I went out with every piece of ass that glanced my way—all so I could stop thinking about _you_!"

Logan stared at him. Julian stared back, as though he could never see enough. Nothing had changed. Nothing had ever changed. He was still him…Logan was still Logan.

And Julian was still the same boy.

"It was you." Julian muttered, folding his glasses up. "I ran because…because of you." He sniffled very slightly, sickened by himself. "It was always someone else for you, isn't it? It was never me. It was never going to be me. I was always just going to be in the wings, watching you. And then one day, I just…I heard you sing like your heart was breaking and…I realized I had to go. Because I'd turned to something terrible. Because…because I was starting to wish that your heart broke…for me. Just… _once_." Julian shivered. "Just once. And if I was starting to wish that—if I was starting to wish that I could hurt you… It was time to go." Julian wiped his eyes hastily. "Because…" and he smiled faintly. "…because that's not what friends do."

Logan was staring at him, speechless, and silence reigned. Julian smiled bitterly. "What…? No snappy comeback?" Julian stood up as Logan remained seated, transfixed.

"It was good seeing you again," Julian whispered.

He received no response, but he wasn't expecting anything. Not after all these years. He was just glad he could breathe.

Julian walked out of the bar wiping his eyes and heading upstairs. It was over. It was all over.

* * *

He all but flew into his hotel room, swiping the card at the door with shaking hands, closing the door with a shuddering breath. He had never felt so spent in his life.

He threw his coat and card onto the bed and flung himself at the sink, coughing. He threw water onto his face, as cold as possible, and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and face flushed—he was in no condition to go out anymore.

But that was all right. For all he cared, he would stay holed up in his Hotel Room until the Emmy excitement died down and he could fly out to New York. But _shit_ he couldn't go to New York. That was Logan's territory. Maybe he could go abroad. Surely another country would be far enough.

He couldn't remember when he'd fallen asleep, but he woke when the buzz at his door sounded. He had left all the lights on again. But when you throw yourself to bed in physical and emotional exhaustion, you can't be expected to have to get up and turn out the lights.

He glanced at his phone. There were a several missed calls from his manager and publicists. They must've gone mad and were now storming the gates. That's fine—a welcome change. If he was lucky, he could _literally_ work himself to death.

The buzzing persisted. Julian groaned and pushed himself up. "All right, all right…" They probably want to run him through his schedule for tomorrow. It was only eleven thirty, and in Julian's world, that was dreadfully early.

He opened the door.

Logan stood outside it. Julian stared, wondering if he was even awake. He blinked the fog from his eyes. "…Logan?"

The blond swept in, strong wide hands grabbing Julian's face and bringing it to his in a deep kiss—so forceful that Julian was pushed back into the room as the door slammed behind Logan. There was no time for thinking, no time for reacting—just one single thought: that Logan Wright was kissing the breath out of him, his powerful arm around Julian's waist and pulling him close.

And _hot damn_ if it was a dream or a drug-induced hallucination, Julian was willing to take it for all it was worth. He kissed desperately back, hands on Logan's broad shoulders and pulling him closer, sharing the same breath and everything gone to hot mist.

They broke for air but never moved away, as though every moment in five years was waiting for this one, and it was too priceless to break away now and end too soon.

They breathed on one another, still close enough that every rise brushed their lips together. Logan's eyes were piercing green and Julian looked up at them with some mistrust. He was kissing the Devil.

"You did break my heart." Logan leaned his forehead on his. "…you broke it when I realized I would never have you back."

"Was I ever yours? Did you even ever want me?" Julian asked, barely audible and trying not to stare at Logan's lips, wet with the kiss.

Logan, doing the same, murmured, "Mine for three years, on and off… and wanted you back every minute of five silent years after."

Julian closed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before he could hope too far again. He was good at that, putting his heart in ice thinking he could preserve it. But green fire always melted that ice, frustrating as it was. "If you're just saying this out of some twisted pity—"

"I was halfway to the airport when I realized…that if I let you go this time, I will never see you again." Logan brushed a thumb at Julian's bottom lip. "It's too long already. And selfish bastard that I am…I have no intention of letting you go again."

Julian almost smiled. Real or not, he was willing to live somewhere other than in hiding from everything he had wanted. "…I keep wondering when I wake up in all this. I've clearly had an overdose. I'll have to wake up any minute now."

"Don't hold your breath," Logan murmured, swooping down and claiming his lips again.


End file.
